Click anon for love
by Melonypond
Summary: Sherlock and John go to the same college. One night, John uses tumblr to (jokingly) beg for help studying for finals. Three doors down, Sherlock clicks anon. / Multichapter Johnlock AU.
1. three doors down

_**Hello everyone, this story was based off a tumblr prompt. I didn't beta it so sorry if anyone is a bit OC, it shouldn't be too bad. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!**_

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John sat down at his computer, pushing away the heavy textbooks and frowning. He was studying at Uni to become a doctor and his final for this semester was tomorrow. He honestly tried to study but the words just kept swimming on the pages and he couldn't focus any more. Instead of forcing himself to endure more torturous, impossible attempts at focus, John decided to have a brake and go on tumblr.

"If anyone can simplify my text book, I will love you forever." He wrote before hitting enter and continuing to scroll through his blog.

Sherlock Holmes dropped his textbooks on his bed and walked straight to the computer. There was no way he was going to spend time reviewing the information he had already packed into his mind palace. He flipped quickly logged onto tumblr and scrolled down his dash. Sherlock smirked slightly, seeing the desperate text post. He clicked the link to the blog, somebodysdoctor. The image on the side was of a short man with sandy blonde hair and a tired smile.

Sherlock clicked quickly on the "ask" link. "I'd assume medical textbooks?" He wrote, "Let me see what I can do." Just before he hit send, Sherlock clicked anon.

John sighed and returned to the top of his blog, checking for a message before he reluctantly tried to study again. He smiled, seeing the little red bubble by his message icon. Clicking the anon message, John began typing out a reply. "You'd have to be daft to want to help me. These textbooks are awful. They're just dreadfully boring, but if you want to know, they're "Advanced human biology" by Roger McKeen. In all seriousness though, if you could help me understand them I would love you." John hit the post button and waited for a response.

Sherlock hit the refresh button on somebodysdoctor, waiting for a reply to his ask. When he saw it he read quickly and scoffed. "As it so happens, my class is studying the book as well. What do you need help with?" He clicked anon and sent the message.

John flipped his book open and listed off some of the things he was having issues with in the book, mostly wordings and a few general topics. He and the anon continued talking long into the night.

Just before John was going to go to sleep, he got a final message from the anon. "Glad to help you with your finals, good luck tomorrow."

John smiled. "Hey, why don't you come off anon? I said I'd love you forever if you helped me and it's a little hard to do that when I don't even know who you are."

Sherlock smiled at the response. "Now, now my doctor, be patient. I don't hand out my personal information to just anyone."

John frowned when he got this. "How could a blog url be personal information?" He asked.

Sherlock smiled sadly and closed out of tumblr without answering. He shifted the books off his bed and flopped into it. This was the longest someone had talked to him without shouting and Sherlock was terrified he would screw it up if this boy had any idea who he was. He wasn't willing to take that risk just yet. Shaking his head to clear it of sentiment, Sherlock turned his light off and lay in his bed.

Three doors down the hall, John gave up on getting a response and closed the top of his laptop, laying down on his bed and thinking about the anon. Sighing with a tight feeling in his chest, John turned his light off and went to sleep.

The next morning, John woke up and crawled out of bed, packing up and leaving his small dorm to get some coffee from the shop. Upon reaching the shop, he ordered a cappuccino and bagel. He walked over to one of the small tables and sat down tiredly. The sun was barely brushing the tips of the fall trees and there was a thin layer of frost on the grass. John sighed and rubbed his face before looking down at his wristwatch, it was 6:20 and his exam started at 7. Sighing, John sipped at his coffee, wanting more than anything to just go back to sleep.

Sherlock rolled off his bed, he had fallen asleep at approximately 4:45 last night and it was 6 now. He ignored the exhaustion as he always did and entered his mind palace, sifting through the information he would need for today. Human Bio was easy, but he wanted to be sure that he had all his facts down.

Sherlock moved through his thoughts, going past the Human Bio lab. Standing at the end of the hall was a blonde haired man, smiling with his hands behind his back. It was the man he was chatting with on tumblr last night. Where had he seen the face before? It was far more familiar now that it was on the computer screen last night. Sighing angrily, Sherlock left his mind palace and stood up. He pulled on a clean button down and shrugged his long coat over his shoulders. He figured he would walk down to the coffee shop to try and clear his head. Maybe even remember where he had seen that man before.

It was 6:45 and John stood with a sigh, walking out of the near empty room and out into the crisp fall air. His Bio room wasn't far from the coffee shop but John wanted to get there early. The grass was covered in a thin layer of frost and his breath clouded around him. Taking a sip of his coffee, John began walking to his class.

Not long after John left the shop, Sherlock walked in. He ordered a simple coffee and walked out. His long coat was billowing out behind him and his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. The crisp air bit at his hands and face, but Sherlock didn't notice it. He instead chose to scan the immediate area to gather possibly useful information. There frosted grass was undisturbed and the few, stubborn brown leaves rustled in the slight wind. On a far path, he saw a blond, short boy jogging carefully to his class. Sherlock hit himself on the forehead and looked back at the boy. John, John Watson. That was where he had seen him before, the two had human bio together.

Sherlock swallowed hard and regained his calculating look. Whatever happened, he was planning on using tumblr to his favor. If John knew who he was he would surely stop talking to the freak. He continued walking, taking a sip of his warm coffee. This was his one chance not to be a complete ass and screw everything up.

After a few minutes, a tall, dark haired man walked in. Sherlock Holmes, the genius. John smiled slightly and watched him flop into an empty seat. Sherlock was elusive, often hiding in his room for days at a time. No one ever really talked to him, but he never really looked like he craved a good chat. Or a friend, for that matter. John glanced away from Sherlock, he wished he had the nerve to talk to Sherlock. He looked at the clock, focusing on counting the minutes to the test instead of dreaming about how perfect Sherlock's cheekbones were.

He watched as the clock hit 7 the professor closed the door and turned the lock. Any students running late would be locked out with no remorse. Turning his attention to Mrs. Hudson, he pretended to pay attention to her lecture about how there was to be no cheating. And everyone was to take their time and read over the test and on and on and on. John quickly lost interest and looked at the people around him.

In one corner was Molly Hooper. She was a kind, polite woman but John hadn't talked with her much. She was very self-conscious and incredibly smart, rivaling Sherlock in this subject. A few seats away was Philip Anderson, an annoying suck up who was only just passing the course. He always made scathing remarks about Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson behind their backs. John couldn't stand the self-centered, sneering brat.

A paper was slapped on John's desk, shocking him out of his thoughts. Looking down, the blond man scribbled his name at the top and smiled as he very quickly filled in the answers to the questions. After getting study help from the anonymous tumblr user, he was more confident than ever with this subject. John moved quickly through is test, filling in the bubbles and writing his short essays quickly and confidently.

Across the room, Sherlock deftly answered questions. Dull, this class never was a challenge. He glanced up and looked at John. The blond man was grinning as he wrote with complete confidence. Sherlock smirked slightly, glancing at Anderson to see the moron scratch his head and stare at his test. Sherlock looked back down returning to his test.

Finishing quickly, he turned the test over and leaned back in his chair, opting to wander around his mind palace. He strode briskly through the halls, heading to his archives on interesting people. Pulling open a file cabinet he removed John's file. Flicking it open, he read through the information.

John Watson, came from a poor family, works hard and honestly. Most likely military parents, very strict but always mean well. He is always one to help people, even going out of his way to at times. Plans on becoming a doctor. Constant, suppressed need for adventure. Probably the only person on campus that didn't hate him.

Sherlock smiled slightly, strolling out of his mind palace and opening his eyes. He looked over at the clock, ten minutes until the final was to be completed. Glancing at John, he saw the man was flicking his eyes over a set of notes and muttering under his breath. Sherlock sighed quietly and began running through the information he would need for his next exam.

The bell rang and Sherlock removed himself from his thoughts and stood. He turned and began walking out of the classroom. He tossed his empty coffee in the trash and strolled out the door.

John watched as Sherlock left. He sighed and closed his notebook, leaving the small room. He wished he could just work up the nerve to Sherlock, he always looked so lonely. Shaking his head, john turned his collar up and walked into the brisk wind outside. He hustled across camps to his dorm, still thinking about how he would like to talk with Sherlock.

On the way there, he saw three senior boys huddled around someone, pushing the man from one to the next before shoving him to the ground. John started towards them, prepared to throw a punch if necessary.

Sherlock hit the ground hard. One of the men grabbed the hair on the back of his head and smiled cruelly. He shoved Sherlock face into a glazed over puddle. The water was murky and borderline frozen. It bit at his face, but the more Sherlock struggled to get his face out, the deeper his face was forced. All of the sudden, the pressure on his head was gone. Sherlock pulled his face out of the puddle and gasped, shivering. The three men who were tormenting him had ran off, but one shadow remained.

Sherlock shivered, reaching to pull his coat around his shoulders only to discover that it was gone. The water on his face was beginning to freeze and Sherlock shivered more, trying to wipe the water off with his hands. The wind was biting through his dress shirt and his scarf was gone as well. He was about to stand when a heavy, warm coat dropped around his shoulders. It was smaller than his coat but just as warm. Sherlock pulled his legs to his chest and pulled the coat around himself, trying to regain a little warmth.

John had come over just in time to witness the three men shove Sherlock's face into the puddle. "Hey!" John shouted at them, stalking forward. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing!" John was furious.

One of the men glanced at John. "Get out of here pipsqueak." He growled before returning to his tormenting.

John glared at them and stepped forward, tapping the largest one on the shoulder. He turned around and John took this opportunity to use the heel of his hand to smash into his nose. Turning on his heel, he used his momentum to punch the other man in the stomach and knee him in the groin. Turning again, he watched with satisfaction as the third man was already running. John returned his attention to the other two men.

"Leave. Now." He growled, keeping his voice completely level. He watched them scuttle away and then looked back at Sherlock. The man was sneezing, coughing, and shivering. His coat was laying on the ground a good ways away. His scarf was in the low branches of a tree.

John sighed sadly for him and unzipped his black jacket. He draped it around Sherlock's shoulders and quickly retrieved Sherlock's scattered clothing. He crouched down next to the shivering body.

"Hey, come on. "He whispered to Sherlock, "Let's get you warm." John wrapped Sherlock's coat over the other and coaxed the tall freezing boy upright.

"Th-th-th-thank y-y-you." Sherlock chattered, pulling the coats tighter around himself. He followed John into the dorm hall and into the other man's small room.

John guided him over to the bed, wrapping another blanket around the thin man's shoulders. He pulled the desk chair out and sat across from Sherlock. "I'm John." He said, smiling at him.

"Sh- Sh- Sherlock." He stuttered, nodding quickly at John and pulling the fabric tighter around his shoulders. His the thin layer of ice on his face had thawed but he was still remarkably cold.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you. I'm sorry no one came to help you earlier."

Sherlock took a deep breath, trying to stop his chattering teeth. "I- I'm used to it." Sherlock mumbled. His observations had gotten him in more trouble than this before and they would get him in more trouble later. It's just what happened.

"Excuse me?" John was shocked. "You're used to getting your face stuffed in a frozen puddle?"

Sherlock looked away. "Usually it's worse. The frozen puddles happen pretty often." Sherlock looked away, how could he be this pathetic.

John was shocked speechless. The whole relentless bullying phase was supposed to be done and over with by the end of high school. "Sherlock I-"

"No, it's fine." Sherlock cut him off. "I appreciate what you did but I'm okay. I should probably go to my room, you have another final coming up too I would bet." He slipped John's coat off his shoulders and moved the blanket off too. Standing up, Sherlock turned to leave the room.

John reached out, grabbing his wrist. "Please, I don't have another final today. If you do, let me walk with you." He stumbled over his words, just trying to get Sherlock to stay.

Sherlock bit his lip. "It's really not necessary." He said, looking away but not pulling his arm out of John's grip. "You wouldn't want to spend time with me anyways."

John kept his grip on Sherlock's wrist and stepped in front of him, blocking the door. "Let me talk with you, please. Even if it's just walking to your next final, you shouldn't be alone."

Sherlock just shook his head and looked away. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to mu room."

John looked torn, "Stay here, just one minute, okay?" He let go of Sherlock's wrist and moved to his desk. Tearing a small sheet of paper out, he scribbled down his name and number. "Call or text me any time." He pressed it in Sherlock's palm, smiling at him.

Sherlock nodded and stepped back, opening the door and walking into the hall. He continued around the corner until he was sure John had closed his door before returning to his room.

He tossed the paper on his desk and flopped into his bed, wrapping the sheets around himself. A small tear rolled down his cheek, getting close was hard, but staying distant was horrible. Maybe it was time to leave his comfort zone.


	2. You really don't

_**Sorry for not uploading faster, I started this fic at an awkward time for me with finals and projects and my spring sport starting. I haven't had a lot of time for free writing. But enough words from me, onto chapter two!**_

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The next day, Sherlock woke up and rolled off the bed. He picked up the scrap of paper with John's number on it and bit his lip. A friendship and a risk, or ignoring the one person who doesn't hate him to prevent a maybe. To prevent infinite maybes. Because _maybe_ John had a thing for Sherlock and _maybe _it was just pity. _Maybe_ he just wanted to be friends, _maybe_ John wanted to exploit him, _maybe _John would lose interest, _maybe_ they would stay together until the end of the year and _maybe _they would never be anything. The world was full of maybes, there was no way to avoid them.

Sherlock fell back on his bed with a huff of irritation. He closed his eyes and entered his mind palace. With all of these maybes floating to mind he needed some form or filter, a list. He ran through his halls, plagued by the constant "what ifs" floating around in his head. Memories, facts. He needed logic.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open and he gasped, surfacing from his mind palace. He remembered last night, the messages on tumblr. A friendship on tumblr, an anonymous relationship with careful questions and stories of his life. If he ever wanted to, he could reveal himself for John, he could come clean.

Sherlock stood back up and grabbed his phone, punching the numbers into John's contact along with his tumblr url. He opened up a new message and hovered his fingers over the screen before shaking his head, discarding the message he had yet to start. Instead, opting to open his tumblr, scrolling through John's blog.

A devoted _bones _fan along with _house _and _fringe._ Sherlock prefered _lie to me_ and _leverage_. He continued to scroll. Just as he had suspected, John was studying to be a medical doctor. He was signed up to go into the military as an army doctor after obtaining his degree.

Sherlock scrolled for the better part of an hour before sending a message on anon. "How did your final go?". He sent before closing the cover to his laptop and changing his clothes he strolled out of the room to his next final.

Sherlock jogged down the stairs. Walking briskly he made his way across campus in the bitter cold. He was about halfway to the room when he heard a voice behind him.

"Sherlock!" The voice called.

Sighing slightly, he continued his pace, not breaking stride. It was probably another tormenter, one of hell's demons placed at this school specifically to make Sherlock's life miserable.

"Sherlock wait up!" The voice called again. This time his stride faltered only slightly. He heard footsteps pounding on the pavement and Sherlock braced himself for a shove or punch. He was pleasantly surprised to see a sandy blond head of hair bob next to him.

"Don't you know that when someone tells you to wait up, you shouldn't start walking faster?" The shorter man huffed, matching Sherlock's speed.

"I- sorry. Normally people don't tell me to wait up so we can talk." He stated blandly.

"The thing that happened yesterday, is that a normal thing for you?" John asked, concerned.

Sherlock nodded, there was no need to elaborate.

"Hey, next time anything gets rough or you feel threatened, just get in touch with me. Call, text, messenger pigeon, what ever. Just tell me and I'll be over there as fast as I can. You don't deserve the treatment they give you."

Sherlock nodded his head. "Thank you." He mumbled awkwardly. Sherlock desperately wanted to talk to John, he wanted to talk to John but he couldn't. The words wouldn't come out, he couldn't even think of something intelligent to say.

He continued like normal on the outside, keeping his cold detached shell engaged for the sake of protection. Inside, Sherlock was trying desperately to talk, say anything that would let John know how he felt. The man next to him continued throwing him off, he just couldn't focus. To make it worse, the "maybes" and "what ifs" began to creep out from the shadows of his mind. Seeking respite from the worldly onslaught, Sherlock set himself to autopilot. He began going deeper into his mind in an attempt to hide from it all. All the pointless questions and anger.

John chewed on his lip for a bit, looking at Sherlock. The man was a good four inches taller than John. He walked quietly beside Sherlock but it was easy to tell Sherlock wasn't entirely there. They way he walked, staring straight ahead and moving mechanically, he was detached and unresponsive.

"Sherlock." John prompted. He frowned, when he did not respond. Looking closer, John could see that Sherlock was breathing faster, his pace increasing. John matched his pace and tried again. "Sherlock!" he demanded. The man just kept walking faster. "Sherlock!" John half shouted, grabbing Sherlock's arm.

Sherlock was running through his mental halls, evading the thoughts and questions that plagued his mind. He gasped softly when he was violently ripped from his palace. Sherlock became acutely aware of his surroundings. The crisp air biting at his face, his semi-irregular breaths shattering the calmness around him, and the tight grip on his arm that shocked him back to reality.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back towards John. The smaller man looked at him carefully. "Sherlock," he said quietly, "What's wrong?"

Taking a careful breath, Sherlock smiled awkwardly and quickly replied, "Nothing. I'm fine John."

John narrowed his eyes. "Liar." he challenged, staring hard at his taller friend. "Tell me, please."

Sherlock shook his head and looked away. "You have a final John. My problems aren't important." He wouldn't bother John with his issues. If he was lucky, John would forget about this.

John looked hard at Sherlock and sighed. "Today then. Sherlock just talk to me, I only want to be your friend."

Sherlock turned sharply and bit his lip. "No, you really don't." He mumbled just loudly enough for John to hear before striding briskly away.


End file.
